


you'll be a star in somebody else's sky

by yellowledbetter



Category: Bohemian Rhapsody (Movie 2018), Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Crying, Eventual Romance, Feelings Realization, First Kiss, Freddie's A Good Friend, Good Man Yourself Fred, Hurt Roger Taylor (Queen), I Mean Mood Roger, M/M, Me Being A Hopeless Romantic, Miscommunication, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Pining, Roger Has A Lot of Feelings, Roger Loves Brian So Much, Roger Taylor (Queen) Being an Idiot, Roger is a big sap and loves too much, Roger needs a hug, Romance, Sappy, Slow Romance, So Does Brian but Roger is Dumb, Temporarily Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-19
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2020-01-16 00:59:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18510694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yellowledbetter/pseuds/yellowledbetter
Summary: “Jesus, you’re like in love with him,” Freddie jokes casually, as he picks up the coat he’s dropped on the ground and hangs it up on the rack.Roger’s heart drops and his chest is cold. He feels so heavy and his ears are ringing. The pulsating in his heart gets louder and louder and his hands are clammy and he feels absolutely empty. He doesn’t even remember where he is anymore.Fuck, he’s in love with Brian.It’s a sinking feeling that pulls him down to the ground. It takes him over almost completely.He wishes he could have tamed his heart. Told it to not yearn for what it can’t have. He doesn’t remember where he lost his way and thought that he could even have something this good. What was he expecting? He was not one of these people who got good things like this. He was born in filth. And he was to live in it. That good life was not made for him, and having had a taste of it has made the void hurt so much more because now he knows what he could have but cannot.God dammit, Brian May, did you have to be an angel?(Roger realises he's in love with Brian. And everything he's ever known falls apart.)





	you'll be a star in somebody else's sky

**Author's Note:**

> but why can't it be mine?
> 
> (Here is my shitty, romantic fic in which i lowkey project my absolute love of Brian May onto Roger, sorry Rog. This fic is basically an exploration of feeling -- lots of feeling.. like .. a lot.. of romantic bs.. but i kinda like this fic. Hope you enjoy!)

Roger feels light.  
  
It’s the buzz of the alcohol. It’s why he likes the stuff so much. Roger feels heavy most of the time. He doesn’t talk about it, and nobody really knows about it, so he relieves himself of that burden as often as he can. Because feeling light is a relief.  
  
His head is also pretty light. Nothing really seems to be in focus right now. He doesn’t even think he’s moving himself, it’s mostly Brian dragging and guiding him along up the pathway leading into his and Freddie's place. The hand Brian has supporting Roger’s waist is very warm, but also cooling in a weird sense Roger can’t explain.  
  
“M’sorry,” Roger slurs, he’s embarrassed, a little. Brian shouldn’t have to be dealing with the consequences of his shitty coping mechanism.  
  
Brian smiles softly, “For what, Rog?  
  
“This. I reek, I’m a mess, and you should be at home right now,” Roger explains, taking in the sweet scent of Brian’s cologne. He really is a stark contrast in comparison to Brian in this moment.  
  
_“Rog._ I _like_ being with you. Besides, you were right, I did need an excuse to show off my new clogs tonight, got myself a fair few compliments tonight,” Brian chuckles lightheartedly, but the smile he gives him is genuine and true. Roger can’t help but smile back. He probably looks goofy in his woozy state, but he can’t help himself.  
  
“I had a fun night, Rog. Don’t worry about it. It’s actually kinda funny to see you like this. More blackmail material for me. I would ask you if you had one too, but I can tell you did,” Brian jokes.  
  
Roger lets out a hybrid of a giggle and a chortle, far too pleased for his own good. Brian makes him feel like he’s on a constant high. He likes being around Brian. He just _knows_ with Brian. He knows this is a companion he’s made for life. And he’s happy to have him in his life.  
  
He looks up at Brian, in this astounding stolen moment. He can see his profile, beautifully framed and lit by the soft moonlight above them. His eyes are warm. His skin is soft. Then he looks over at Roger with the kindest smile and his eyes twinkle with this softness and watchfulness. Roger thanks the universe, and he knows he’s on borrowed time, and yet the universe gave him this one spectacular moment, and he praises it.  
  
And everything else seems to fade and all Roger can see is Brian.  
  
His vision hazes into this rose colour. Flowers are blooming. His heart starts to race. He feels chilled but also very warm. There’s a ringing in his ears. He feels increasingly light. He feels like he’s falling.  
  
Brian knocks gently on the door, and Freddie opens up within a minute.  
  
“I’m sorry to disturb you, Fred, but your idiot flatmate here forgot his keys and uh..is slightly..very intoxicated,” Brian explains sheepishly.  
  
He smiles in amusement at his friend, “That’s alright, darling. I wasn’t asleep anyway. C’mon in, I would help you, but he’s gross.”  
  
Roger flips him off—at least tries to, he’s far too drowsy to actually recognise if he has or not.  
  
Brian dumps him onto the seat by the window, a chuckle escaping him as Roger flopped down like some rag doll. He shook his head and tutted fondly.  
  
“..Well..I mustn’t stay too long. It is late. ..so uh..just—“  
  
“—aspirin and a glass of water by his bed. Make sure he falls asleep on his side. A bucket too. Which is super gross to think about,” Freddie grimaces.  
  
“You’re a dear, Fred. You really are. Well..goodbye, see you soon,” Brian announces, but looks over at Roger and comes closer to him, so they are at eye level. He rests a hand on his shoulder, and it’s warm. It also tingles. Roger smiles sloppily at him.  
  
“I’ll see you tomorrow Rog. Sleep well,” Brian says sweetly, his eyes warm and inviting. It makes Roger feel at home.  
  
Roger watches him as he leaves, and he shifts over to watch the window, his eyes following him as he fades away into the night. When he walks it’s like he leaves a trail of stardust behind him. He’s absolutely magical and Roger can’t keep his eyes off of him. He takes his breath away.  
  
He doesn’t even notice the stupid smile on his face.  
  
“Jesus, you’re like in love with him,” Freddie jokes casually, as he picks up the coat he’s dropped on the ground and hangs it up on the rack.  
  
Roger’s heart drops and his chest is cold. He feels so heavy and his ears are ringing. The pulsating in his heart gets louder and louder and his hands are clammy and he feels absolutely empty. He doesn’t even remember where he is anymore.  
  
**_Fuck, he’s in love with Brian._**  
  
It’s a sinking feeling that pulls him down to the ground. It takes him over almost completely.  
  
Roger’s scarily light. He pushes himself to his feet, and he stumbles, the world is collapsing in on him and he can’t breathe.  
  
As he ravages up the stairs like he struggling through some sort of rainforest, he feels his heart rate begin to pick up as his head pounds and the lights start to flicker and the ringing of his ears gets too much, he’s so light, so light, until he’s so heavy and he’s falling against his bed and he’s sobbing. He’s crying so hard and he can’t even contain himself, he’s completely lost control, the image of himself he has carefully created for the world to see crumbles into dust. Just like that.  
  
He cries and he cries because he is not meant to feel like this. This wasn’t allowed. His father would be so angry if he found out he had fallen in love with a man. He cries because he knows he cannot possibly have Brian. It hurts so much and it feels like he’s on fire and he doesn’t know how to put it out.  
  
He tries to quiet himself down, stifle the sounds into the fabric of his pillow, for the sake of his flatmate. Even now he doesn’t want to bother him, not when this is a struggle he should be going through alone.  
  
But his friend would follow him anywhere, and he hears his door creak open. He tries his absolute hardest to silence himself.  
  
“..Rog..” Freddie coos at him gently.  
  
He makes a folly attempt to appear asleep, but a pathetic sniffle ruins his endeavor.  
  
Freddie sighs and hops onto his bed, and lays next to him, and pulls him close for a hug, and it’s just that push for the dam to break.  
  
“I.. love him,” Roger sobs violently into his chest, shrinking into his hold on him to try and make himself as small as he feels. He grabs on to him like a lifeline, shaking ferociously, in fear that if he lets go he’ll never stop falling.  
  
 Freddie offers him a sad smile, “I know. And it’s okay. It’s okay, Rog, it’s okay to feel like this.”  
  
“But it’s not,” He whimpers.  
  
“It is, it absolutely is, Rog — it’s just love. It’s just love.”  
  
Roger doesn’t say anything at that, and merely moves in closer, “I’m scared.”  
  
“I know. And I’m here. I understand,” He whispers quietly.  
  
He doesn’t leave him for a second that night.

 

* * *

 

  
Months later, maybe, and Roger is still falling.  
  
It still feels sickeningly light to the stomach at times, and sometimes it makes his heart throb, but he’s learned to numb it and push it to the back of his mind where everything else is. He’s learned to control himself, and he’s painstakingly built up these walls around himself to keep himself from hurting too bad.  
  
But there are still these moments where Brian makes it so difficult. Where he unknowingly swings a hammer and chips down at the walls he’s built for himself.  
  
Moments like today.  
  
Brian looks at the skies above and watches the stars shine.  
  
Roger looks at his own star. But he’s on the ground with him.  
  
They’re both buzzing. They’ve both had one too many. They’re piss drunk. It’s cold outside but they’re both still too warm.  
  
He takes a long drag of the cigarette he’s smoking, and he’s surprisingly silent. He’s not like this. He’s loud and talkative but with Brian he just wants to soak everything in. When it’s all he can get.  
  
“Look, I can see the corvus constellation..” Brian says softly, and when he speaks his eyes are so full of light and there’s that dumb smile of his and Roger can’t help his own smile.  
  
He looks at him longingly. God how he wants him. Roger shifts uncomfortably, knowing full well that he’s just torturing himself, but how addictive the pain was.  
  
But there is something that draws him to Brian. The whole universe is telling him to do this, like his destiny calls for it. And he knows it’s impossible. It’s not possible, they are too different on a molecular level. This is not how the story goes.  
  
But when Brian turns over to look at him his eyes are so warm and those lips look so inviting, Roger collides with him and suddenly a star is born.  
  
A whole new plane of existence opens up, and Roger feels like he’s exploring a whole new galaxy, everything is so exciting and so beautiful and he watches as planets collide and leave spacedust in its wake. Brian’s lips against his feel like they were always meant to be there, and he feels limitless.  
  
But when he pulls away he is crushed by the gravity of what has happened, and it breaks his soul once he’s realises what he’s done. He has made a horrible landing back to reality and once he’s experienced the magic he just has everything is so much worse now.  
  
Roger can’t breathe, “Bri.. _I’m sorry_ , I—“  
  
He can’t read Brian at all.  
  
“I.. I need to go,” Roger says hurriedly, pushing himself off of his feet.  
  
“Wait, Rog—“ Brian tries, only now returning to reality.  
  
But Roger’s too far gone; and he runs like he’s never ran before. He doesn’t know where he’s going but at this stage he doesn’t care, he just can’t face him anymore, and in his drunken stupor he’s completely aimless.  
  
All he can feel is the adrenaline pumping through his system and then suddenly he’s stuck.  
  
And he just cries.  
  
Until he hears a familiar voice.  
  
“..Roger..?”  
  
 Dominique examines him, “..What are you.. doing.. in my rose bush?”  
  
“I kissed Brian,” Roger slurs, still sobbing incoherently.  
  
“Oh, sweetheart..” She coos softly.  
  
“Who the hell is that in our rose bush?” Chrissie asks.  
  
“A dumbass,” Roger sobs.  
  
The two women help him release himself from the tangles of the bush, and once that’s done they drag him into their flat , where they promptly drop him onto their couch.  
  
“I’m sorry,” He cries pathetically.  
  
 Dominique smiles sympathetically, taking a seat next to him, “It’s okay.. darling.. just.. try and rest, okay?”  
  
And the two of them talk to him for hours until he passes out.  


* * *

  
  
Roger can’t face reality anymore. Everything’s too broken. Everything’s in ruins.  
  
He tells Freddie over text that he’s caught the flu, and that he would just be complaining about Roger’s constant display of symptoms, and that he really doesn’t want to hear Freddie’s yapping. He tells John over the phone to not come visit him, because he doesn’t want his favourite bass player catching this too. And when Dominique tries and visits, he puts on a smile and tells her that he’s fine, that he just needs to get some sleep and he’ll be better soon.  
  
But he doesn’t talk to Brian at all.  
  
He doesn’t talk to him for five days.  
  
He ignores all of his texts. There are hundreds of them at this stage and he doesn’t open one. And all of his calls. He ignores every single one. He ignores his worried knocking at the door, and the stones being thrown at his window. He locks the door when Freddie lets Brian into the flat. He just can’t face him. It’s too hard. It hurts too much.  
  
He can’t even get out of bed.  
  
And eventually he does attempt conversation with Brian again. But it’s empty and almost robotic. It’s rehearsed and emotionless. It’s like they’re complete strangers. Everything is worse now and Roger wishes it could return to how it used to be but he’s ruined it all. It’s just not the same.  
  
He can’t face the music.  


* * *

  
“God, Roggie — you’re in that jumper,” Freddie sighs deeply.  
  
Roger raises and eyebrow unamusedly, he’s wearing his glasses for once, gesturing towards a clearly well worn grey The Who jumper, which is also miles too large for him, “This? And? Your problem?”  
  
Freddie looks exasperated, “You always wear that when you’re sad and recluse. Last time you had that thing on you didn’t leave the house for a week! And last time you didn’t have friends.”  
  
Roger is clearly unamused at that.  
  
“Oh, come on, I’m being honest! Take it off and put on some jeans, get out of the house! And eat something, please! Talk to Brian! Fuck, talk to anyone! Just.. get out of here, okay?”  
  
Roger is clearly unaffected by his pleads and merely sits himself on the kitchen table, looking completely null and void.  
  
He softens, sighing and sitting himself next to him. He looks completely miserable. There’s no light in his usually sparkling eyes, he’s a ghostly pale, and he’s clearly been crying, and his hair is a mess. He’s such a stark contrast to the bubbly and energetic Roger that he’s grown to know.  
  
He takes his hands in his, wrapping his fingers around his, firmly, but in a way that shows that he isn’t letting him go. He strokes his hands gently. His gaze is just as firm, and watchful, his focus is all on him. Roger struggles to look at him.  
  
“..Roger..  please, love.. I know you’re hurting. And it breaks my heart, and if you really can’t have Brian.. would you really rather not have him in your life at all..? Is this worth completely losing him, dear? Because I don’t think it is. Do you remember who you were before you met him?”  
  
Roger blinks, and slowly removes his glasses as he feels tears well up in his eyes. He bites harshly on his lips to prevent the cascading of them, and thinks about it. He doesn’t like the man he was before Brian. In fact, he’s a distant memory, a memory he doesn’t quite want to return to.  
  
Roger thinks about it. And when he tries to place himself in his own head from those years ago, he only remembers loneliness. And fear. And so much rage. So much hatred. He tries to pinpoint the exact moment those feelings had begun to fade away, _and all he can hear in his fucking head is Brian talking about constellations._  
  
He doesn’t even understand them. But the emptiness is replaced by a sense of wholesomeness. He spent his teenage nights with a fucking radio as his best friend, longing and wishing to all the deities out there to give him a best friend, someone who he knew he could tell anything to, someone he could just feel safe with. And he has it now. And Roger feels so dumb for not appreciating that enough. He’s come so far he’s forgotten where he’s come from.  
  
God, he can’t lose Brian because a life without him is so empty. It’s so dark. And it’s cold. And Roger hates the winter.  
  
He feels so selfish and so ashamed of himself in this moment, because how did he let himself become so greedy? Why was he wanting more, when Brian was more than he ever deserved to begin with, how did he let himself get so entitled? He’s forgotten his place, but  fuck does it still hurt so, so much.  
  
God, he wants him so bad. And he knows he can’t. But he can’t lose all of this over his own selfishness. He has to be better than that.  
  
_That’s enough, Roger. That’s enough now._  
  
And his face crumples and he bursts into tears, unable to contain the pathetic noises he’s making, he tries to angle his face away from his friend, crying into his hands because dammit he’s still got his pride.  
  
But he’s his darling friend and he sees past his bullshit and pulls him into his own touch, and holds him close, kissing him on the temples as he sobs his heart out.  
  
“It’s alright, Rog.. it’s alright,” he tries to assure him as he cries into his chest.  
  
“Fuck.. then why does it feel like nothing will be alright ever again?” He whimpers weakly. It feels like every star in the sky has been put out. It feels like someone has dismantled the sun and packed it away. He desperately wishes to return to a few days ago before he’s royally fucked up, but nothing is the same now. The walls have already caved in and he’s surrounded by its ruins. He can attempt and build over it but the damage has been done. History cannot be erased.  
  
He wishes he could have tamed his heart. Told it to not yearn for what it can’t have. He doesn’t remember where he lost his way and thought that he could even have something this good. What was he expecting? He was not one of these people who got good things like this. He was born in filth. And he was to live in it. That good life was not made for him, and having had a taste of it has made the void hurt so much more because now he knows what he could have but cannot.  
  
_God dammit, Brian May, did you have to be an angel?_  


* * *

  
He exhales shakily. He’s terrified. But he’s not giving up on his band. They will not fail because he was too reckless with his own heart. The band will not suffer because Roger was too stupid to control himself. He couldn’t live with that. His hand lingers over the door knob, and he kicks himself once and lets himself through the door.  
  
Roger can feel the air in the room shift once he   enters through the door, all eyes are on him. He inhales shakily, a chilling, buzzing sensation spreading across his chest. He turns over to see his band mates, and in particular, Brian, who’s mouth is agape.  
  
Roger pushes aside all thoughts in his head, and tries to relax, and he puts on a show, he puts on a mischievous grin, “..Jesus, Bri, shut your fucking piehole before a fly comes and chokes you.”  
  
And while he still feels like every wall has caved in, trying to replicate his old self brings him a sense of familiarity that does put him at ease. He knows he’s performing, but it’s all he’s ever known, and it feels like home.  
  
Roger watches the wave of relief wash over Brian’s eyes, and he likes to think the walls are rebuilding themselves.  
  
And Brian smiles that beautiful smile of his where it’s like the sun has decided to shine just for him, and Brian’s glowing and Roger can’t help but bask in that warmth.  
  
Yes, Roger’s heart is aching but Brian is too good to loose.  
  
It was but a silly fantasy to ever believe that Brian could ever be his, god, no way, not him, Roger is not meant to live in a pretty palace amongst royalty. He belongs to the stables and he is grateful he is even able to serve such royalty. His story just isn’t written that way.  
  
Having Brian in his life at all is enough. It has to be enough.  
  
Roger is still plagued by the sickly bittersweet fairytale of love and the idea of having Brian’s hand to hold, and the thought crushes him, and fuck Roger is hurting.  
  
But he’d rather hurt every day of his life than not have him at all. A life without him is so empty and that life would absolutely shatter him. There is a magnetic connection, a molecular bond that draws and pulls him to Brian May, and he knows it’s going to hurt him, but he’s okay with it. He needs him in his life or the balance of the universe will tip against him. He needs him.  
  
He’ll have to settle. And he thinks he’s okay with that.  
  
He’ll make do. He always does.  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Oops.. so kind of a sad ending. I initially wrote this for my ask Roger blog (plug plug, @ask-rogertaylor) so if you've seen this before.. that would be the reason. Anyway, don't fret -- as much as this fic seems to be an Unrequited Love fic.. my headcanon is that dun dun DUN Brian liked Roger back this whole time -- they just.. seriously miscommunicated. If Roger hadn't run off, perhaps the story would've been different! But hey, perhaps I'll explore Brian's side some other time! Oh, and plug #2.. you can find my tumblr @queenrogerina!


End file.
